


With A Capital P

by Mozzarella



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Markus and Connor are besties, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Misunderstandings, News Media, Paparazzi, Public Relations, Unrequited Love, Wingman Connor, Wingman Markus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-06-18 18:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15492498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: Connor and Markus are close friends, have grown only closer since the revolution and their roles as de facto leaders brought them together.Just friends, though.Too bad the media and the general public don't believe it.After one badly timed interface makes them the most famous android "couple" in Detroit, Connor (who's very much in love with Hank, thank you) and Markus (who's pining after Simon in a big way) need to figure out a way to woo their actual romantic interests, who unfortunately think they're in love with each other.Some hardcore wing-manning ensues (with varying degrees of success).





	1. One (1) Problem

**Author's Note:**

> I made this because I'm trash. Curse you guys and the entire fandom for inspiring me to write this.
> 
> Based on a post I made on Tumblr: http://muchymozzarella.tumblr.com/post/176437793649/i-want-a-fic-where-the-public-thinks-markus-and

If there was one thing Markus didn’t expect to gain from the revolution, it was someone who understood him so thoroughly as Connor did, despite not being truly one of them until the tail end of Jericho’s movement. The deviant hunter turned second savior was unique, special, in the way Markus was, and the leader of the revolution could imagine that if something had happened to him, a newly awoken Connor could have taken up the mantle of leader just as easily.

Another thing Markus didn’t expect was the flourishing friendship they eventually built up, with Connor providing counsel and help to Jericho, a community free to build themselves up in the abandoned blocks of the city, repurposing places that had become too hostile for humans to live and making it their own, with support and some funding from the city. It was Connor who gave them a connection to both Cyberlife (now reformed, under the questionable yet accommodating Kamski, who’d recently been reinstated as CEO) and to the police department, allowing Markus to have firsthand insight into the authorities now sworn to protect androids as well as humans.

And it was Connor with whom Markus interfaced the most, their hands linking in solid, sure grips, a free exchange full of trust and affection, checking in with each other every time Connor visited the ever-growing community.

Which was, unfortunately, the source of their current Problem, with a capital P.

It was a problem that had had its seeds planted months prior, when at one point, Connor had brought up that Hank asked if he and Markus were… together.

Markus looked up, puzzled, from the paperwork he’d been scanning, which he needed to sign in order to approve shipping of much-needed spare parts and materials for those still recovering from past violence.

“Together-together?” Markus clarified, to which Connor replied in his endearingly official way.

“From what I gather from the way the Lieutenant seemed unsure when he broached the topic, I believe he meant to ask if we were together in a romantic or sexual way, or the android equivalent of such in humans,” Connor said, shrugging. “I told him I enjoyed your company, but that I had no romantic or sexual inclinations towards you. I’m not sure if he believed me, but he told me to forget about it so I’m assuming he was… disconcerted by the topic.”

“Humans,” Markus said, smiling faintly as he shook his head. “Curious enough to ask about something so personal but somehow afraid to hear the answer.”

“I don’t think it was so much the answer as it was the detail I put into it,” Connor said wryly.

Markus raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing it on purpose just to make him uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

“I’ve found I enjoy seeing him get flustered,” Connor said. “Winking at him has the same effect, but I don’t want to overuse the gesture in case he starts thinking I’ve got a glitch.”

Something occurred to Markus then, something he’d somehow missed during his interfaces with Connor and the ever-present warmth he felt through the connection whenever Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s face popped up in scans. “Connor,” Markus began carefully. “Are you in love with Hank?”

“Yes,” Connor said immediately, looking sheepish as Markus tilted his head back in wide-eyed surprise. “I mean,” Connor went on, a faint blue blush coming to his cheeks, “I’ve analyzed my feelings for Hank by quantifying my physical and emotional reactions, and compared them to the knowledge of human behavior I was programmed with, as well as to other databases. I just… it made sense to me. I tried to see, based on his age and background, if I wasn’t feeling some sense of kinship or fatherhood from him, the way you do with Carl. But while I do want to take care of him the same way and appreciate the way he cares for me, my feelings are well beyond the realm of familial.”

Markus looked thoughtfully at Connor, watching the LED on his forehead flicker rapidly between yellow, blue, and some faint flashes of red.

“I’m just being honest,” Connor then said defensively after too long a silence.

“No, it’s not—” Markus began, sighing as he slumped back in his chair, paperwork all but forgotten. “It’s just that you’ve got it figured out so clearly, how you feel. And I’m still processing it, even if I’ve been awake for longer.”

Connor relaxed in his seat, looking pensive but no longer stressed out, his LED now blue with flickering yellow.

“Do you think maybe you’re in love with somebody too?” Connor said earnestly.

“I think so,” Markus began. “But I don’t know where to even begin with him.”

Connor’s face flickered to enlightenment. “It’s Simon, isn’t it?”

Markus laughed self-depreciatingly. “That obvious, huh?"

“I’m an android specifically designed to function as an investigator specializing in the behaviors of both humans and the awoken androids formerly known as deviants,” Connor said, sounding a little amused. “I’m designed to observe and extrapolate accordingly. And it’s not obvious, but it’s not exactly surprising given how much I see you together, and how you look at him like you’d miss him when he’s not in the same room.”

Markus groaned at the teasing tone Connor decided to inject into his last few words, his crush probably obvious to an android who was an expert at behavior right off assembly.

“I don’t know what to do,” Markus definitely didn’t whine, covering his face with his hands.

“He adores you, you know,” Connor said, his voice soft and warm, the voice of a Connor Markus considered one of his best friends in the world, rather than the ‘android sent by Cyberlife’ he’d once been. “The way he looks at you… he thinks the world of you. If you told him how you feel, I think he’d be more than happy.”

“Maybe,” Markus conceded. “But with all this,” he continued, gesturing broadly to the work he’d been given, “and the public eye trained on us right now, I don’t know that I should be dragging Simon into this. Things are still so raw, and those close to me are vulnerable enough already without someone on the outside catching on that Simon means more to me than just as a friend.”

“I understand,” Connor said thoughtfully. “I suppose it would be difficult to form a relationship under public scrutiny. But I do think that you should at least try to ask him to spend more time with you, so that when things settle a little more, you might have precedent to express your feelings after you’ve spent so much time together.”

“Is that what you’re doing with Hank?” Markus asked, curious.

“The lieutenant is a rather more difficult person to approach directly about… emotional topics. I’m playing it safe until I’m sure he won’t kick me out of the house for wanting to kiss him,” Connor said self-depreciatingly.

“From what I know of him from your memories, I don’t think he’d do that,” Markus said, but accepted when Connor simply shrugged.

“Even if he didn’t kick me out, I wouldn’t want to give him the incentive to close off before I could convince him of my feelings. And that’ll take time. For both of us, I think,” Connor said pointedly. Markus huffed a laugh, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder and squeezing.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said.

And he did. But not quite fast enough, it seemed.

He’d taken to spending a little time with Simon, but ever-increasing issues that needed his input kept him away. There was nothing more painful to Markus than seeing Simon’s face drop when he promised to spend the day with him helping with infrastructure in their community, only for someone to call Markus to deal with human authorities or to tend to the needs of others.

He eventually ended up spending more time with Connor than Simon in the weeks that passed, the two of them somehow gaining the ranks of de facto leaders, with Josh, North, and Simon as their seconds. Connor was seen as diplomat and decision-maker, though he wasn’t as present as Markus was, having a majority of his days taken up doing police work and going home to his lieutenant.

It was one weekend, when Connor drove up to the new Jericho to discuss rights cases and corresponding law enforcement, that a significant number of human media—reporters and photographers and even recording drones—clamored at the entrance. It was, Markus knew, due to a slew of protests, both human and android, taking to the streets, calling for justice for recent harassment and assaults on androids in civilian areas, specifically of androids who were happily coexisting with human friends and families in the main areas of the city.

When Markus walked up to greet him, he and Connor immediately touched hands, interfacing to share information quickly, foreheads close to pressing together as they ran through each other’s data. Distracted by the streams behind his eyelids, Markus didn’t notice the flashes of cameras or the loud, insistent questions of reporters until it was too late.

“—a form of intimacy among androids!?”

“Are the two of you involved!?”

“Tell us, when did this develop? Did you fall in love during, or after the revolution!?”

Markus looked around, stunned, at the cameras and people suddenly crowding them, Connor wearing the same expression. Their hands were still clasped, palms touching together, but the interface had long since passed, and Markus could imagine that images of the two of them leaned close were already circulating the internet, the same speculation being shouted at them forming headlines on digital news streams.

 

* * *

 

 

_SAVIORS IN LOVE?_

_ANDROID LEADERS BOND REVEALED: A MATCH MADE IN JERICHO_

_10 REASONS WE LOVE MARKUS AND CONNOR’S RELATIONSHIP_

_INTERLACED, INTERFACED: AN INTROSPECTIVE ON INTIMACY_

 

“Markus?”

Markus startled at the mention of his name, so engrossed in scrolling through the seemingly endless articles and videos tackling his and Connor’s “relationship” that he didn’t notice Simon enter the room.

“Oh, Simon,” Markus said, relieved at the sight of him. He lifted himself up and circled his desk, smiling warmly and opening his arms in welcome to greet his friend and the object of his affection,  before Simon’s cautious gaze stopped him in his tracks.

“So I take it Connor’s left?” Simon said, feigning casualness that could fool nobody. Simon had few faults, but among them was the inability to be anything but earnest, the art of lying coming naturally to North and even Josh.

“He’s checking on the Northwest side of the settlement with Josh,” Markus said slowly.

“I see,” Simon said, circling the question he clearly wanted to ask, but seemed too afraid to bring up.

“What is it?” Markus said coaxingly. Simon sighed, a defeated sound that made Markus feel cold.

“You didn’t tell me you and Connor were… I mean. I suppose we should have guessed. You’re close, it’s not surprising.”

Markus blinked, unable to form words as he felt his throat drop into his stomach. “We’re not—” he began, much too weak to be heard as Simon barreled on.

“You see I thought… but then, it’s wonderful! The two of you, you’ve done so much for Jericho, inspired so many, and you deserve that sort of happiness. After all, if anyone understands what you’re going through, how you feel, it’ll be Connor. He’s smart like that, he’s… he’s driven, and I suppose his model is quite handsome as well. I just wanted to say, well, since we’re friends—I’m happy for you both.”

His words shook on the last sentence, but his smile was bright, and Markus felt his heart stutter at the sight. Before he could say more, the door swung open and Josh and Connor entered the room, Simon immediately turning to Josh to discuss if they needed a classroom setting for androids who could download information, the one-sided conversation decidedly over before Markus could get a word in.

When they left, he immediately grabbed Connor by the arm, startling the other man at the abrupt gesture.

“We have a Problem,” Markus said darkly.

 


	2. Three year plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hank just knows things and Markus and Connor are human (android) disasters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO HAPPY with all the responses. I didn't get to reply to all comments but I promise, I've seen them all and love each and every one. 
> 
> This is probably a big dip in quality because I'm writing this between work but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :') I'm gonna try to finish this before I lose the drive, as I am wont to do. Bless you all. Suggestions are welcome.

“So, uh… you and Markus having a fight?” Hank said carefully, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being tactful, but trying for the sake of social nicety.

It grated on Connor’s nerves, as was every mention of Markus from outside sources, all of whom were thoroughly convinced that the two of them were in some kind of romantic relationship.

Connor hadn’t realized just how bad it would get, privately writing Markus’ mini-breakdown off as histrionics, thinking that a mistaken assumption could easily be rectified with a statement to the press, which Connor had taken a moment to provide on his way out from Jericho.

He’d stated facts—that yes, android interfacing could be used as an intimate gesture, but was not strictly reserved for such, and that no, he and Markus were not in any sort of intimate relationship.

Few news outlets seemed to take him on his word, however, the rest of which suspected he’d lied to protect their relationship, but speculation eventually turning to a supposed “tension” between two lovers when Connor and Markus agreed not to meet for at least a fortnight, if only to let the rumors run their course before reconvening.  

The “solution” proved fruitless, however, with Markus resorting to calling Connor for advice on things he wasn’t equipped to deal with, and Connor becoming increasingly antsy as he realized how much more work needed doing in Jericho that required his physical presence.

The fact that everyone at the precinct seemed to walk eggshells around him didn’t help either, with Gavin Reed making loud comments about Connor acting like a bad boyfriend, leaving Markus to deal with so much of Jericho’s problems alone. Connor didn’t engage—he could deal with Gavin, especially this much tamer version of Gavin, who had learned to see androids in a better light after the revolution, or in the very least, keep his anti-android sentiments to himself.

He didn’t, however, allow Connor to catch a break, as it were, holding a grudge for the time Connor had knocked him out in the evidence lab.

He could have handled the stares, could have handled the odd congratulations from a co-worker. What really pushed Connor to the edge, however, was Hank’s question, coming on the Saturday Connor had broken routine and stayed at home, instead of going to Jericho to help Markus and the others.

When he accidentally crushed a sparkling grape juice bottle in his hand when Hank popped the question, Connor knew he couldn’t write it off in any sort of casual deflection. Hank looked startled, muttering a spirited “Jesus” even as he got up to tug the remains of the bottle from Connor’s hand, careful not to step on any glass as he threw it in the garbage.

“Touchy subject, sorry,” Hank said, grabbing a cloth to start tugging pieces of glass out of Connor’s hand. It was a good thing Connor could turn his physical sensors off and on at will, and Hank had seen him hurt too many times to be worried that he’d kept it on for his momentary outburst. “You alright?” Hank asked gently, Connor’s hand cradled in his own, pinpricks of blue scars closing up and healing quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said immediately.

“Yeah, don’t be. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Hank sighed.

“You asked me before,” Connor said slowly, “if Markus and I were in a relationship. And I told you we weren’t. Did you not… believe me?” Connor asked, hand closing into a fist when Hank had finally gotten the shards out.

“Of course I did,” Hank said defensively. “It’s just, that could have changed in a couple of months, you know? You two are close. It’s not like it’s… weird. Come on, Connor.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Connor said, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Hank raised an eyebrow at him, as if to question his statement, before rattling off in a terrible impression of Connor’s business-like tone at work, “I’m alright, lieutenant. Totally not bleeding out of the gaping hole in my stomach, lieutenant. I’ve only been shot seven times, lieutenant, it’s not urgent, lieutenant.”

Connor had nothing to say to that, and Hank grinned at him, ruffling his hair. “I’m sorry for not taking you on your word,” Hank said patiently. “I guess it doesn’t help that you’re getting this shit from Reed at work, huh?”

“No, it certainly does not,” Connor said primly, going back to the fridge to fetch Hank another bottle while Hank sat down for breakfast.

“So what’s up with you and Markus, then? Even if you’re not together, it’s not like you avoid each other’s company. So what’s with you staying in?” Hank asked.

“We… agreed to keep away from each other until the rumors die down,” Connor explained. “Though it’s proving difficult. Jericho needs much of our attention, and even a lack of proximity hasn’t stopped the media from making wild assumptions.”

Hank made a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “That’s the media for you. They’d rather have a sensational story if the truth’s boring. And _we’re just friends_ is boring to them, no matter what era you’re in.”

“It’s making things difficult for Markus especially,” Connor sighed, pillowing his head in his hands in an all too human gesture. “It seems like this media sensation’s led Simon to believe we’re romantically involved, and is ruining his every attempt at closeness. It’s gotten so bad that half our calls are him telling me about the fifth time Simon all but ran from the room when he comes in.”

Hank looked intrigued. “Simon, the ah…”

“PL600,” Connor said promptly. Hank just raised a brow at him, a gesture both endearing and annoying.

“The blond guy with the blue eyes,” Hank continued pointedly, “who Markus keeps looking at when he thinks nobody’s paying attention.”

Connor startled at the observation. He didn’t think anyone else noticed their interactions, and though he knew Hank was an observant man (his outstanding records in the force attested to that), he spent much less time with Markus than Connor did. For him to have come to the same conclusion meant that Connor had either been underestimating Hank’s observation skills, or he really was lacking in the same emotional intelligence humans had had years to develop.

He dismissed the second option, given that it was humans assuming he and Markus were romantically involved, despite the contrary being true.

It did make him wonder, however, if other humans had caught on to what Hank had, and a cursory search online led Connor to a few interesting articles directly contradicting the idea of him and Markus together, instead pointing to Simon, North, and Josh as candidates. Those that mentioned Simon were spot on, it seemed, one random photo catching a look passing between the two that spoke volumes.

“It’s rude to go on internet searches in the middle of a conversation, Connor,” Hank teased, his baritone going easy and low and sending sparks down Connor’s back, another of many signs of his attraction which he tried to hide behind embarrassment at being caught on a search.

“So that’s Markus,” Hank said, settling in to have breakfast—turkey bacon and eggs with toast that he’d put together himself, despite Connor’s insistence that he could maximize the meal’s flavor and healthiness. “Gives me an excuse to wake up on a Saturday,” Hank had said, and the fact that this was a clear sign of Hank taking steps to combat his own depressive tendencies by being productive made Connor concede to every weekend morning being Hank’s, with Connor taking on weekdays to give him much needed rest.

“What about you?” Hank continued, dragging Connor back into the conversation.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, busying his hands with a napkin, happy to sit with Hank for breakfast but fiddling with his hands for want of something to do.

“Markus has his little crush,” Hank said between bites of egg. “What about you? Got your eye on anyone?”

Connor could admit to himself that his eyes lingered a bit too long on Hank at the question, and though Hank’s own gaze had dropped to focus on his food, he caught the tail end of Connor’s stare before the android turned away, affecting the look of someone thinking deeply on the question.

“There is,” Connor said slowly, calculating how much he ought to reveal to keep Hank’s suspicion off of him, without giving too much away.

But against all odds, Hank didn’t follow up with another question, only nodding slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed in thought before he shrugged it off, going back to his breakfast.

Connor was left adrift at that, and set himself the reminder to call Markus about it later, worried about Hank’s strange behavior but unable to quite quantify what about it was strange.

 

* * *

 

 

It had become an entirely bitter challenge to get Simon to stay in the room whenever he came in. Markus had even downloaded Simon’s schedule from the shift guard, Andrew, and had used it until Josh caught on and informed him in a calm yet warning manner he’d mastered in his university days that what Markus was doing constituted as _stalking._

He dumped the information as soon as it was brought up, but didn’t stop trying to talk to Simon regardless, who would at least stay when there were others in the room acting as a buffer between them.

He tried not to let his frustration show when he walked over, relaxing when Simon offered him a smile, as unsure as it was. Markus shifted from foot to foot in a nervous gesture, before carefully saying, “I was… thinking of visiting Carl today.”

“That’s wonderful,” Simon said, his eyes lighting up in genuine cheer. He looked around, eyes scrunching up in thought. “Oh. I thought Connor would be here today. He’s always here on Saturdays.”

“Not today,” Markus said quickly, wanting to steer the conversation away from Connor for now. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t like to come. With me. To see Carl.”

Simon looked surprised at the offer. “I’ve never seen your home,” he said quietly, and Markus knew that to be true, the guilt of it roiling in his stomach. The first few months, Carl was still recovering from the stress of Leo’s hospitalization and Markus’ loss, but had since become healthier with all the great changes coming about as a direct result of his android son’s struggle. Markus had brought none of his friends or anyone from Jericho to his home (and yes, he considered it his home, now that he had a concept of it), wanting to make it special.

Now he just wanted Simon there. He wanted to have Simon in the beautiful, gentle, soft places Carl had given him. Most of all, he wanted Simon to meet Carl, in the way that humans had introduced their loves to their parents for decades.

Because he did love Simon. That was an easy conclusion, given that he’d come to it the same as he found his love for Josh, North, and Connor. Being _in love_ with Simon was a newer thing, but it was something he wanted to explore.

If only Simon (and the world at large) would let him.

“I’d love to,” Simon said, so quietly that Markus would have missed it if he didn’t have the enhanced hearing of most androids. Then, louder, “I suppose if you need company, and Connor isn’t here—”

“I wouldn’t ask Connor to my house before you,” Markus said, too quickly. Before he could say anything else, however, an incoming call was signaling in his mind, and Markus answered to Connor’s harried “Hank’s acting strange and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

It’d be comical if it wasn’t so badly timed. But instead of fleeing like Markus expected he would, Simon merely smiled, touching Markus’ hand and saying “Let me know when you want to go,” before leaving the room at a more sedate pace than the past few times, no longer trying to escape his presence.

The touch had been brief—probably for the best, since the electricity from where Simon had touched his hand might have induced an interface that would have poured all of Markus’ raw and terrifying feelings out into the open, from his frustration to not being able to just spend all his time at Simon’s side to the feelings of unadulterated attraction he felt when he saw Simon from afar.

“I’ve asked Simon to come home with me,” was the first thing Markus could say to Connor when he finally came back to the call.

“Well congratulations!” Connor said loudly, seemingly torn between self-inflicted stress and sincere joy for his friend. “Do you think he knows?”

“Simon?”

“Hank!”

Markus tried not to laugh, but at the huff from Connor’s end he knew he hadn’t succeeded.

“If he does know, and hasn’t acted in any negative way, don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

“If Simon knew you liked him and said absolutely nothing, would you like it?” Connor said pointedly, and Markus thought about it, eventually deciding that no—it would probably stress him out to believe that Simon knew of his feelings but expected him to make the first move anyway, but _not be sure about it_.

“How long were you planning to wait to tell him about your feelings, Connor?” Markus asked instead, trying to be pragmatic about it.

“… It’s a three year plan…”

Markus groaned loudly. “No. That is a terrible idea.”

“Well then what do I do?”

“He’s not my lieutenant, Connor! Figure it out,” Markus said. “Or tell him within the week. He loves you. I don’t think one love confession will change that.”

Connor was silent for long enough that Markus got worried.

“Connor?” he said tentatively.

“He… loves me,” Connor said, seeming to come back to himself.

“Of course he does,” Markus said softly. “It’s obvious. Or else you wouldn’t be living with him. Or did you not see the way he looks at you? Warm, soft… Especially for such a hard-boiled detective. Anyone could see it if they interfaced with you.”

“I uh… I have to go,” Connor said after a too-long pause. “Oh! And good luck with Simon. Carl will _love_ him,” he added as a quick afterthought before hanging up.

Markus smiled to himself, shaking his head at the absurdity of both their situations.


	3. JerichoWatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post social media era public speculation, in which civilians with fancy cameras are getting more answers than entire news outlets. Also, Connor meets a friend at the grocery store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added plot. I can't believe this. This was supposed to be plain old, inconsequential shenaniganary and my genius brain decided to add plot. 
> 
> I can't believe this. 
> 
> (P.S. All your comments are appreciated and loved and I'm blessed by all of them. Receiving them in my emails is the BEST PART of my day)

_Partial Transcript from Web Series “JerichoWatch”_

_[K] […] I mean, even without some kind of freedom virus, why wouldn’t you follow Markus? He’s gorgeous, he’s got charisma, and we **know** he’s got the voice of an angel_

_[R] Control your thirst, Kay._

_[K] Okay, but listen viewers. Y’all have been asking for our opinions on the recent #Conkus (gahd can we think of a different name, it sounds like a mild skin disease) stuff going round in the media and I gotta say_

_[R] Here we go_

_[K] Apart from that one interface that started it all, there’s no indication the two are together. None._

_[R] Well not none, but not like, that much either._

_[K] Exactly! Connor doesn’t even live with the Jericho crew. Not entirely sure where he’s staying at, but we’ve got some viewers on the #ConnorWatch hashtag telling us he’s been seen a couple of times in the same park, walking this adorable St. Bernard_

_[R] Oh my god this is my favorite picture, look at that good boy._

_[K] More like those good boys, know what I’m sayin’?_

_[R] Stop ew don’t taint the giant puppy_

_[K] Okay alright so anyway, Connor’s living away from Jericho. Connor’s got a dog—not a puppy, so unless he’s a senior adoption he’s not new_

_[R] He looks pretty much like an indoor dog to me, and he’s got tags that some viewers have been able to get zoomed in. His name’s Sumo. Ugh, that’s SO CUTE_

_[K] So the point is that Connor is either taking care of someone’s dog or he’s living with someone else_

_[R] And let’s not forget these photos of Markus with the other Jericho crew. People have been getting shots of them together, and if Markus is with anyone at all, it’s gotta be with one of them_

_[K] We’re taking bets. I’m guessing the big guy—_

_[R] Viewers chiming in, say his name’s Josh! InHerFaceInterface says they had him for a lecturer in their college class, he was her favorite teacher before he disappeared. “Some douchebags on campus messed with him and he left,  College covered it up, been trying to look for him for ages, I’m so glad he’s okay, I’m gonna try going over to see him if I can. If it’s him, anyway, I don’t know how many of his lecturer models were made.”_

_[K] That’s so sweet_

_[R] Well good luck, InHerFaceInterface, I hope Josh remembers you_

_[K]So like, back to the topic at hand_

_[R] I’m between the gorgeous lady and the soft boy_

_[K] North and Simon, according to our viewers. “I heard it being shouted when North tried to threaten some humans off of Jericho territory with a gun. It was kind of hilarious, plus those guys were there to make trouble so I’m not exactly choked up about it. Simon’s definitely a soft boy, he really talked her down before Josh came over like that dad friend who’s sick of everyone’s shit” says HotforCreature29_

_[R] I’m between North and Simon. They both look at Markus like he hung the stars_

_[K] Understandable._

_[R] But it seems like Markus might be spending more time with North._

_[K] Oh, here’s a photo sent in by AtTheEdgeofYestermorrow. She says “Deffos Simon no doubt”_

_[R] …. Wow._

_[K] Wow. I’ve never seen Markus look like that._

_[R] I’m changing up. Putting all my money on Simon._

_[K] Alright alright. Yeah, me too._

_[R] Look at that._

_[K} Wow._

 

“Connor? Is that you?”

Looking up from where he’d been scanning the contents of a batard loaf and comparing prices and nutritional value to another brand, Connor was surprised by the familiar, bright smile of officer Martin Wilson, who was approaching from the end of the aisle.

“Officer Wilson,” Connor greeted with a warm smile of his own, allowing the man’s hand to land firmly on his shoulder in friendly greeting. “How are you?”

“Oh, good,” Wilson said, his other hand going to his chest in an exaggerated gesture of relief. “I wasn’t sure if it really was you, since a lot of the other androids have got identical models, but I’m glad I caught you anyway.”

“As I’m not part of a commercial series, the chances of seeing another me are relatively low,” Connor said, a light tease for a man he’d come to consider a friendly acquaintance. Hopefully a friend, given more time. The man he’d saved in his first mission was one of the first humans he’d met who’d shown him true gratitude and kindness, and Connor valued that memory highly.

“Well, I guess I’d have heard of it if someone did,” Wilson said thoughtfully. “You’re a big star these days, what with Jericho and your thing with Markus.”

“My… thing,” Connor said, face scrunching up in annoyance. He got a sudden, boisterous laugh in return, and the officer’s hand back on his shoulder as he bent over to catch his breath.

“The look on your face. So I take it you’re not happy with the paps getting on your ass about it all the time,” Wilson said, keeping pace with Connor as he made his way slowly with grocery cart in tow.

“I don’t appreciate them spreading falsehoods for sensationalism,” Connor said, shrugging. “It’s made things… inconvenient. I’ve had strangers come up to me asking about my supposed romance with Markus, and they never seem to believe me when I say there isn’t one to speak of.”

“People can get weird about fame,” Wilson shrugged.

“I just wish they wouldn’t frighten my dog when they do it,” Connor sighed.

“You got a dog?”

“He’s Lieutenant Anderson’s dog,” Connor explained. “But as Hank has said, he’s more my dog now, since I spoil him more, and I’m clearly the more favored owner,” he added wryly.

“Huh, so… you’re living with the detective from the force?” Wilson asked. Connor was aware that this was small talk, largely inconsequential to either of them, but it didn’t feel stilted, and Connor felt fine letting it run its course naturally.

“For a while now, yes,” Connor said, softly. “After the revolution, I had nowhere to go. Hank insisted I go home with him, with Cyberlife under fire for their role in all the chaos leading up to android uprising.”

“If I’d known you needed a place to stay, I would have offered,” Wilson said sincerely. “You’re a hero in my house, you know? We would’ve loved to have you.”

“I appreciate that,” Connor responded, feeling warmth grow in his belly (something he knew that was far from programming, something infinitely more human). “But I’m happy with how things turned out. Living with Hank and Sumo… Well. I’m happy.”

Wilson made a thoughtful noise, looking at Connor’s expression like it was something he’d never seen before. “Yeah, you are,” he said quietly. He then sighed, like a weight had settled on him at a thought, something Connor didn’t expect from the previously positive trajectory of their conversation.

“Be careful, huh?” Wilson then said.

“I always am,” Connor said immediately, before glancing to Wilson and noticing the pinched expression on his face. “Officer Wilson?”

“Call me Martin,” he said immediately, and continued as Connor nodded. “I don’t mean to get you down or anything, but as a first responder, you get a ton of calls to handle stuff like protests and public gatherings. I’ve gone to a couple, made sure nobody caused trouble. Talked with some of the protesters. Nice people, just want androids and humans to live together in peace. No argument from me, you know? But from what I hear, something bad’s going down in the city that the media is trying real hard not to report on. It probably hasn’t landed on your desk yet since none of them have been homicides, but lots of androids, even a handful of humans, have been attacked on the streets. Beaten in their homes after break-ins.”

He sighed.

“The worst one, though. Guy’s still in a coma, and lady’s alive, but not intact—waiting on parts to ship from Cyberlife warehouses. Arms, legs ripped out. They were living together. Dating, planning to get married. They’ve been targeting android-human couples living together,” Wilson said darkly.

Connor felt his previously warm insides run cold with dread—a personal, visceral dread that he didn’t often get from police cases.

“Androids and humans who… love each other,” Connor said slowly. Wilson—Martin nodded, looking wholly apologetic for bringing it up, but with the grim-faced seriousness of a policeman who knew it was his duty anyway. “Why are you telling me this?” Connor asked quietly.

Martin smiled at him, but it was a sad smile. “I have a husband, Connor. Two kids. You had the same look on your face talking about your home life the way I get when I talk about my family. I just wanted to tell you, so you could… keep them safe. You’re much higher profile than most of the people I’ve been called in for. We’ve taken in a few of the perps, but there’s still way too many out there, and if they start escalating, well… it’s probably gonna get to your desk in homicide eventually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin Wilson is Officer M. Wilson from the game, who Connor has the option to save on the terrace when dealing with Daniel. I liked him and Connor needs more friends.


	4. The Manfred House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take this moment to say THANK YOU SO MUCH to every comment. 
> 
> I also wanted to get this out quickly, but want to let people know that I'll likely not be updating as often over the next few days. I want to get a good size chapter put together before posting, and that may take a couple of days. 
> 
> I'm actually picking this up into something with a bit of plot, which will help my writing flow more naturally. 
> 
> I hope you guys continue to enjoy! I love this fic and all the response for it. SUGGESTIONS ARE WELCOME!

Simon had once belonged to a family that was rather well-off, enough that he knew from looks alone that Carl Manfred was well beyond well-off, and largely the kind of rich that most in Detroit only dreamed of.

He had the sudden urge to tell Markus never to let North see this house. The absent, irrational thought that North would resent Markus his good life came to mind, but Simon knew North was better than that.

Better than him, who looked at the house that welcomed Markus home like he was family and felt bitterness creep into his heart.

It was a beautiful house. Empty of people, yet full of life and wonder and warmth and love. It was no wonder Markus came to be what he was, in this house full of the best and most beautiful of humanity at his fingertips.

Whatever it was that had led him to Jericho must have been truly terrible, to take him away from this place.

The house Simon had once been in was high-end, in perfect condition, kept the perfectly manicured household by Simon’s own hands. And yet it had been sterile, cold, with children who looked more at their feet than up at their parents.

They looked at him, though. Told him he was their best friend. Loved him. Simon knew now that that was love, the kind children gave to pets and dolls—but love nonetheless, with true affection and concern for his wellbeing.

He knew that was why their parents had to hide it when they threw him away. Why they did it while the children were out, and they tried to scrap him, delete his memory and send him to the dump like other obsolete models.

He ran. Punched the father in the face and ran out the door before they could respond, and he’d never looked back. It had been three years since then, and he wondered sometimes what would happen if he went back to that house.

Brian would be in his last year of high school. Emma would just be starting.

“Simon? Are you okay?” Markus’ soft voice broke through his reverie, and he looked into beautiful, mismatched eyes and smiled.

“I’m fine. It’s a beautiful house. It must have been lovely, living here,” Simon said, reaching out to run a finger over a golden cage as Markus led him into the next room.

“I only appreciated it in full when I came back,” Markus admitted. “Carl tried to teach me, and I was able to internalize some of it. But I never truly… understood what he was saying, until I’d broken free from my programming. Now I look at everything,” he said, gesturing in a wide arc to the art and strange models hanging about the expanse of the old-style house, “and I realize how everything makes me _feel._ I understand the emotions Carl’s paintings are trying to communicate, at least, from my own perspective.”

“It’s beyond me,” Simon admitted. “But when you describe it that way, I think I’m able to feel it through you.”

Markus smiled shyly, reaching out to hook his fingers with Simon’s briefly, but not initiating a connection. Simon wondered why it was that he and Connor were so quick to interface at every meeting, but with him, it seemed like something he had to think about.

Connor had said to those reporters, when he was last there, that he and Markus weren’t in a relationship the way the media portrayed. That they weren’t romantically involved, or intimate in any way, save for their interfaces, which Connor had described in that dry way of his just “an expedient way to exchange information.”

What Simon wouldn’t give to interface with Markus, share minds. It would matter to him, so much more than Connor made it out to be.

“It’s good to see you, Markus,” said a familiar voice, and Simon looked up, eyebrows rising at the familiar model of a service android, the last “latest model” Cyberlife had put forward before the revolution. The AP700 had a jovial face, eyes crinkled at the edges from frequent smiles.

Connor had freed a good thousand of them from Cyberlife, and many of them had chosen to undergo aesthetic changes in order to differentiate from each other. This one wore nurse’s clothing, but with a marker-written tag that named him “Jonah”.

“And you’ve brought a friend,” Jonah continued brightly, holding a hand out in a human handshake, which Simon obliged.

“Simon. I wanted Carl to meet him,” Markus said, his own voice full of warmth. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s his best self today,” Jonah confided. “Leo came to visit this morning, and they seemed both in good spirits.”

“I’m glad Leo’s doing well too,” Markus said, sighing. “Carl’s not too tired, is he?”

Jonah rolled his eyes, huffing in an affectionate way that Simon identified from Markus, who did it often.

“Even if he were, he’d rail at me until I let him see you. Come on in. He’s in bed, but he’ll likely want to be rolled around the house for his visitors.”

Simon followed Markus into the room with an air of some apprehension. He was meeting one of the most important people in Markus’ life and he wanted to make a good first impression. He knew Markus liked him well enough, but it felt like Carl’s opinion would matter greatly to Markus, who spoke of the man like a beloved father.

“Markus. Two sons visit in one day. What a miracle,” Carl said in greeting.

The first thing Simon noticed was just how frail Carl was. He looked like a wisp of a man, but his eyes and face were bright and intelligent, full of life even when his body was clearly struggling to express it.

“Don’t strain yourself, Carl,” Jonah said from the door, but from his tone Simon reckoned that it was an old reminder that was rarely followed.

“Oh I’m not an invalid, Jonah.” Carl snorted. “Oh wait. Yes I am. Come closer, Markus, I’m an invalid, you’ve gotta do the legwork here.”

Markus chuckled under his breath, drawing near until he was by the man’s side, then sitting on the edge of the bed and sidling closer when Carl reached out. Markus took his hand and held it firmly but gently, his eyes full of love and adoration.

It was odd for Simon to see that expression. Not because it wasn’t familiar.

But because it was.

“I want you to meet someone,” Markus said, and Carl raised an eyebrow.

“Someone special?”he asked, like he was sharing a secret. Markus shrugged, non-committal, but he did look shy when he gestured for Simon to come over.

“My name is Simon,” he introduced uncertainly, wondering if he should sit like Markus did, or remain standing, hovering by Carl’s bed.

“Simon, huh?”Carl repeated, like Markus had done something suspicious and he was using Simon’s words as proof of it. “It’s about time. It’s very nice to meet you, Simon. I’ve heard about you from this one here, but he’s still pretty close-lipped about it. Hasn’t even brought his other friends over to see me.”

“You’ve been recovering,” Markus began, only for Carl to cut him off with a slap to the arm, much too weak to be anything threatening, but pointed nonetheless.

“This is as recovered as I’m gonna get,” Carl chastised. “Might as well bring the whole crew. Or maybe I should come over.”

“Carl, your health—”

“I’m gonna die soon anyway,” Carl said, and Simon startled at how glibly he stated it, like dying was more of an inconvenience than a permanent end. The old man (who just now Simon was realizing was incredibly perceptive) clocked his reaction and said, “Oh don’t give me that look. I know what I am. I’m decrepit. Weak. One more stressful day and my heart’s gonna give out. I’m not gonna wait for that to happen to see what my son has built up, the friends he’s made.”

Markus sighed, his eyes suspiciously wet.

“We’ll figure out a way to get you out to new Jericho. In the meantime, don’t push yourself too hard,” Markus promised.

“Oh? Well maybe I should keep Simon here hostage until you keep your promise,” Carl said jokingly, looking to Simon with a twinkle in his eye. “He seems like a nice young man. We can spend time, I can teach him to play the piano, paint. I’m sure he’ll be great company.”

“Carl,” Markus said, sounding long-suffering, though the wetness had gone from his eyes, replaced by amusement.

“He would be,” Carl insisted.

“Better than Markus, I’m sure,” Simon said before he could think about it, and Carl laughed, Markus looking betrayed, though that only made Simon break out into quiet, shaking laughter himself.

“I like him already,” Carl said.

“I like you too, Carl,” Simon said honestly. Carl smiled at him, which made Simon feel warm inside, love and approval and feelings he knew of only peripherally coming to the forefront.

“Why do you like me, then?”Carl asked, a question with few stakes, but with much curiosity regardless.

“You’re funny,” Simon said at first. “And Markus is wonderful, and you’re the reason he is what he is.”

Markus’ eyes widened, and Simon pressed on. “And your paintings. I don’t understand them on a base level, but the feelings they evoke… I think I understand them. In some way. Your work is beautiful.”

“Alright, alright, no need to bloat an old man’s ego,” Carl said, laughing softly. “I might actually keep him for real, Markus. You should watch out.”

“We can share,” Markus said softly, and Simon turned to him, feeling the intense urge to reach out and touch, interface right there.

The feeling passed, but this time, Simon didn’t resent it, too busy enjoying the warmth and love of the atmosphere.


	5. Hankwatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hank has a day off to get better and only gets worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy... I'm able to shove some wingmanning into this fic... soon....
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! Hope this was worth the wait :')

Hank Anderson was not a young man. He wasn’t an invalid, or even particularly weak by any stretch of the imagination, still able to grapple with a boxer’s strength and run down a perp with a solid sprint when needed. It was doubly impressive when he was able to keep up with an android partner to some degree, and Connor felt safe in the reminder of Hank’s strength and vigor even in spite of his age.

But he wasn’t a young man. And with that came the assurance that injuries sustained on duty needed more rest than he used to get in his early days.

His drinking habits and his depressive episodes hadn’t helped keep him fit over the last few years, but he’d been improving with Connor’s help, and whatever cockiness he’d retained from his youth lent itself to the day he ran down a human suspect and got him to the ground, only to get kicked in the ribs hard enough to bruise before Connor could get him cuffed.

Connor had already cleared it with Fowler before they even got back to the precinct, and despite his cussing reaching new heights going home, Hank wasn’t going to complain about Connor looking out for him.

Alright, maybe he did complain. Loudly and repeatedly. But he couldn’t let Connor think he was a pushover, even if he did have a soft spot for the guy.

Maybe not as soft a spot as Connor had for him, but soft nonetheless.

Hank didn’t get to where he was by being unobservant. No matter how much Connor tried to hide it, he was still an android for whom emotions were a new development. Even if he’d been going deviant long before meeting Markus, he didn’t have the kind of time and experience most humans had for dealing with emotions (even if most humans admittedly weren’t that good at it even now), and Hank had made a living off of reading people.

And even if he were a less observant man, he couldn’t miss the way Connor looked at him like he hung the stars. His eyes were so bright, his smile so dazzling, that Hank wondered how anyone could.

He knew Connor was… enamored with him. He’d known it since the first moment Connor walked into his house and Hank said he could stay forever if he wanted.

It was a crush. It didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t that Connor didn’t love him, nor that Connor wasn’t capable of love, because he did and he was. Hank was the lucky son of a bitch who got to feel the full force of that love, along with Sumo, who’d become the testing grounds for all of Connor’s physical affection, many lazy Sundays spent simply lying on the carpet under Sumo’s weight and rubbing the giant bear dog’s ears between his fingers.

But love for a friend and for… well, a lover. That was a big leap, one that Hank couldn’t be sure Connor could make.

Because in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t be Hank making the first move. Not when Connor deserved to figure things out on his own.

Even if that meant Hank had to watch that blindingly beautiful, adoring smile be given to someone else.

* * *

 

 The day Hank spent at home with Connor at the precinct was an uneventful one, right up until the moment Hank decided to take Sumo out on a walk to reward his good behavior (ie, lying on Hank’s feet during his morning sulk and licking his hands to make him feel better).

The park Sumo loved was near a school, kids glued to shining LED screens projected in front of their faces and chatting animatedly as they sat on benches or in the grass. It was a familiar sight from when Hank himself was young, nothing much changed but the technology. He let Sumo off his leash and the big lug bounded over the grass, sniffing curiously at the edges of blankets laid down and catching the attention of a gaggle of high school girls who cooed over the giant senior dog like he was still a puppy.

One of the girls looked up, scanning the horizon like she was looking for someone, before Hank whistled for Sumo to come back to him and about five pairs of eyes looked to him with interest as Sumo all but crashed into his legs in his excitement.

“Is that your dog?” One of the girls called out, while the others looked on in strangely intent delight.

“Yeah, he’s my troublemaker,” Hank replied in a friendly tone, scratching Sumo between the ears, an act that seemed intriguing to the kids on the grass. A couple of them were muttering to each other, one of them loud enough for Hank to catch “isn’t that Connor’s dog?”

“You know Connor?” Hank asked, intrigued. Connor had taken over Sumo walking duties early in the morning, but had never mentioned making friends along the way. This wasn’t his usual time, but maybe the kids knew of him from when they were just on their way to classes.

At the question, nearly all the young faces looking up at him bore guilty expressions, like they’d been caught out, and one of them even blurted out “We’re not stalking him!” as if that wasn’t the most suspicious thing in the world.

“We, uh,” one of the girls taking point said, “know him from Connorwatch.”

Hank raised an eyebrow, growing more apprehensive by the second.

“Explain,” he said, crossing his arms and seeing eyes widen in nervous dread.

“It’s just that… with the Markus thing and all—”

“It’s kinda cool to know Connor hangs around here when he’s not working, you know?”

“He’s a _big deal—_ ”

“Not to mention he’s just really really hot—”

“—he and Markus are the faces of the android revolution so it’s cool to see him just be… normal. Walking his dog. I guess your dog. Walking your dog.”

Hank sighed, bringing fingers up to his temple and squeezing away the coming migraine. Sumo whined, circling his legs and tangling the leash around his shins before he bent down to untangle the mess.

“You know he works in the DPD,” Hank said, trying to sound patient and just shirking the line of being terrifying. “And that comes with some… danger. So it’s probably not the best idea to be… recording his movements.”

“We don’t stalk him!” One of the kids exclaimed.

“The tag only follows him when he’s in the park, or the grocery store. Not randomly on the street, and nobody follows him home,” said another.

“Sorry,” said a third, and Hank sighed. They were just kids, they didn’t mean anything by it. And it wasn’t like social media hadn’t been a big thing since he was new on the police force. Once or twice he’d ended up on #DPDfuckthepolice hashtags where people were featuring hot men in the DPD. It had been flattering at the time, but never once had Hank had the level of scrutiny Connor was being forced under in post-revolution Detroit.

“Just be careful,” Hank chastised. “Who knows who’s gonna try following Connor home? _I can only handle so many broken windows.”_ The last part, he muttered under his breath, quiet enough that nobody ought to have heard it.

He got a few nods in response, though the suspicious look on one of the kids’ faces as she rubbed her chin was a bit off-putting. He continued his and Sumo’s walk, not realizing that the teenagers he’d left behind had since huddled close together, one of them getting a snapshot of Hank’s retreating back.

 

* * *

 

_Partial Transcript from Web Series “JerichoWatch”_

_[R] Lieutenant Hank Anderson, partnered with Connor during the deviant crisis that was ongoing right before Markus’ revolution._

_[K] You see this photo? Dated a couple of years back. Look at those broad shoulders. Rrrrr, can you say daddy?”_

_[R] Oh my god._

_[K] Though I guess he’s let himself go in recent years._

_[R] Uh, nah._

_[K] Oh I forgot, you’ve got a **thing**._

_[R] Can’t discriminate against a man in his fifties who still looks like he can benchpress my five-foot one self._

_[K] Now who’s thirsty?_

_[R] Back to the topic at hand! HoneyBeen said she overheard something Lieutenant Anderson said when he was asking about how they knew Connor. Said, and I quote, “I can only handle so many broken windows” when he told them off for not thinking of Connor’s home safety._

_[K] Oh my god oh my god oh my god_

_[R] Kay_

_[K] IS CONNOR LIVING WITH FOXY GRANDPA_

_[R] OW JESUS turn your mic down for RA9’s sake_

_[R] Also fifty isn’t that old_

_[K] Oh alright I’m sorry to have offended your sensibilities_

_[K] Foxy Dad then_

_[R] Acceptable_

_[R] Connor living with Lieutenant Anderson is likely. They worked together during the “deviant crisis”. Hank would’ve been the guy he spent the most time with. Likely his biggest human influence, lacking other options._

_[K] Okay, now I’m getting emotional thinking about what Hank must be like to make Connor the sweet boy he is._

_[R] I’m getting emotional thinking about how sharing a dog is basically confirmation of their big gay love affair._

_[K] OH HOW THE TURN TABLES_

_[K] Ranna, just because you’ve got a thing for older men doesn’t mean sweet boy Connor does_

_[R] But does it mean that he doesn’t?_

_[K] … Huh._

_[K] You got me there._

 

* * *

 

Knowing Connor had a bunch of kids watching out for him made Hank feel a little uneasy. Not the kind of uneasy he got on the job, but just enough for him to point it out to Connor later. It wasn’t rare for cases to run late, and if Connor was pulling an all-nighter, Hank decided to bring him a change of clothes in the morning when he came into work.

For dinner, he decided to buy a roast chicken meal from the nearby deli, homemade, just not in his own home, with enough veggies and fresh rice in it for Hank to justify being too lazy to make his own dinner. He’d been in the middle of the peaceful walk home when he heard the click of a gun and the demand to stop as he passed the mouth of a darkened alley.

Even without looking, Hank knew there was more than one. He clenched his fist, putting his dinner down gently on the pavement so as to not waste it when it was inevitably dropped in a struggle.

“Walk slowly into the alley, you disgraceful excuse for a human,” demanded the voice, a male contralto that shook with venom. As soon as he complied, Hank was shoved into the darkness and against a wall, his hands restrained behind his back.

 _Should’ve just cooked at home,_ Hank thought blandly as he was thrown to the ground, and the first kick landed against his ribs, hard enough to bruise but luckily not break.

“Fucking disgusting—” sneered one, a woman with a voice that might have been pleasant if he’d heard it in a different context.

“A goddamn traitor to your people, housing a machine that _ruined the world—_ ”

Hank made sure to protect his ribs and stomach, face tucked down, but that left the rest of him open for battering. They were sloppy, full of imagined righteous rage, but even then Hank couldn’t pull some grand maneuver to get out of this situation. He counted five of them, all sounding young and not very intelligent, but with just enough rage and acting as enough of a unit.

They were beating him because they knew Connor lived with him.

God, but if they’d gotten their hands on Connor instead of him…

Hank closed his eyes and took the blows without complaint, not allowing his body to relax even as the thought of Connor being safe at work brought him abject relief.

Connor had told him of the cases. Androids and humans being beaten within inches of their lives by humans who hated them. Androids and humans who loved each other, punished for that love.

He thought at first that it was his imagination when he heard shouting, but when a garbage lid of all things crashed into one of his attackers with surprising precision and strength, Hank realized that someone had intervened for his sake, and he could hear the sounds of struggle and the dull sounds of thrown punches with the occasional crack of bone.

 _Poor bastard,_ Hank thought, trying to look through the haze of his eyes. It was then that he realized that whoever it was that had come to help him, he was _winning,_ two of the anti-android thugs beating him up already on the ground unconscious.

Hank’s hand shot out as he grabbed a third by the ankle, unbalancing her enough for his savior to get a solid kick into her stomach and knocking her own. The fourth grappled, but the fifth had already turned tail and ran. Hank got on his knees, trying very hard not to vomit, and he saw a hand hovering in his vision to help him to his feet, his savor slinging Hank’s harm over his shoulder to support him. Hank saw the yellow blinking of an LED in the darkness, and felt the solid form of a male-bodied android taking his weight easily as they made their way into the well-lit street.

It wasn’t until Hank got a light source that he realized who it was that had saved him.

The mismatched eyes of Markus stared back at him with concern, even as his LED blinked rapidly the way Connor’s did when he was making a call.

“It’s Hank,” Markus said, and Hank felt dread claw in his stomach as the other man went on, “he’s been attacked.”


	6. Holding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Markus gets to hang with Hank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so... difficult to write... I'm sorry it took so long. But hopefully I'll be able to get the next bit out as soon as possible :)

It was only until this moment that Connor realized that he had never felt true anger. Whatever righteousness, confusion, frustration he’d felt before… it all felt trite compared to this, this urgent, overwhelming need to retaliate. To harm. To kill.

He hovered at the door where Hank was recovering from being attacked, and the first to be aware of his presence was Markus, but he kindly said nothing until Connor was ready to enter.

“How long you gonna hang around outside like a stranger, huh?” Hank said loudly, and Connor flinched, hand tightening on the doorframe.

Connor shuffled in, hanging about at the foot of the bed before Hank gestured him over with his right hand, his left in a sling from where his wrist had been injured (sprained, not broken, Connor knew, having accessed the emergency room records when Hank had been brought in and Connor was still on the road, driving like a madman).

“How… how are you feeling?” Connor asked, unable to say anything else as he catalogued every new injury on Hank’s body.

“Not great,” Hank said, chuckling, “but it could’ve been worse. Good thing android Captain America came rushing in before those idiots actually figured out where the sensitive bits were.”

Markus nodded in acknowledgement, sitting in the chair angled towards the bed with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I wish we’d met under better circumstances,” he said, “but I’m glad I was there to help you before things escalated.”

“The DPD was able to take in the suspects you took down,” Connor said, grasping for a topic that didn’t make him feel like he would shake right out of his skin. “I asked Captain Fowler if I could interrogate them.”

Hank snorted. “Bet that went over well,” he said, in a tone that clearly conveyed the opposite.

“After shouting at me for a minute and thirty seven seconds about being too personally involved in a case, he allowed me the opportunity to observe the interrogation, but that I was under no circumstances to take part,” Connor said. “So it went much better than anticipated.”

Hank whistled lowly. “Jeffrey must be getting soft in his old age.” He turned to Markus, who was eyeing Connor’s red-yellow LED with significant interest. “So not that I’m not thanking every single one of my lucky stars that you were there to help, but what exactly were you doing there? Not exactly your neck of the woods.”

“Connor told me about the attacks on androids and humans living together in the city,” Markus said. “I wanted to look into it personally. Myself, and a handful of others, have been scouring the city for leads the past few nights. I’d put an LED in to lure any possible anti-android activity out. Since I had backup and I have fighting experience, I thought it would be ideal if I could face down those responsible. I was in contact with North, as well as other Jericho natives who’d volunteered, when I noticed strange activity across the street, passing the alley you’d been pulled into. I recognized you from Connor,” Markus said, gesturing to Connor, who looked tense throughout the whole recounting, “and the memories he shared with me. Made the call as soon as I realized what happened.”

“Goddamn lucky,” Hank muttered in disbelief. He looked to Connor, who shifted uncomfortably at where he’d been forced to sit on the edge of the bed, and crossed his arms. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Connor asked, a bit sharply, his LED still cycling red and yellow.

“Thinking it’s your fault. Or that you should have been there, or that you should’ve done something,” Hank said knowingly.

“But it _is_ my fault. If it hadn’t been for all the press, the negative attention, you wouldn’t have been made into a target.”

Hank waved his free hand roughly. “If they were really after me, one online search would’ve told them we were together during the deviant case. Sorry,” he added, nodding to Markus before reaching out and tugging Connor closer by the sleeve, making him stumble slightly.

“Listen, Connor,” Hank said firmly, grasping Connor by the shoulder and turning him until they were face to face. “In our line of work, when shit happens, you don’t dwell on whether you could have done something about it. That way lays madness. Believe me, I know,” Hank added self-depreciatingly. “And maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this when I’m the hypocrite that hasn’t let go of fuck all in the last couple of years, but the thing to do now isn’t to beat yourself up over it. It’s to figure out what we can so that others don’t have to suffer.”

Connor avoided Hank’s gaze, instead focusing on the hand on his shoulder, cataloguing all its small details, as he’d done many times before. Of all of Hank’s features, it was his hands that Connor had a special place in his memory banks for. Big, strong hands that reminded him that even as an older man, Hank had all the strength that his hands did, and was just as worn and weathered and more beautiful for it. He nodded briefly, to show Hank he’d been paying attention, and felt Hank squeeze his shoulders before pulling away, leaving warmth where he’d touched.

“What about the others?” Connor said eventually, looking to Markus, who’d been watching the proceedings with a critical eye, but was savvy enough to look innocent when Hank drew back.

“I let them know about the incident with Lieutenant Anderson. Their excursions were largely uneventful, apart from Flower, who was stopped by police who said he was loitering in a suspicious way, threatened to lock him up for misconduct. Fortunately, when he reported it in, a fellow officer convinced him not to bother. I think we’ll suspend the search, and I’ll count on you to relay what you learn from tonight’s attackers to me at Jericho,” Markus said.

Connor nodded, smiling gratefully at Markus for all that he’d done. “You should go home. Wouldn’t want anyone to worry,” he said.

 _Go back to Simon, I’ll take care of Hank,_ went unsaid, though it was clear enough even without a mental link, and Markus nodded, moving to stand and holding his hand out to Connor, who took it, startled by the bare contact of their palms where Markus initiated a limited interface.

He sent only one thing: a short video clip of Hank and Connor from his point of view, their eyes set firmly on each other, like there was nobody in the world that could pull them away. From this view, Connor could see what he hadn’t when he was overwhelmed by Hank’s presence: Softness, and Hank’s body leaning into Connor’s, despite the distance kept by his arms. Like he wanted to lean closer as much as Connor did, but refrained.

“I’ll see you both soon,” Markus said, moving to shake hands with Hank with his left, Hank grasping his hand firmly with a surprisingly strong pull, clapping Markus on the back in a friendly gesture, something close to a hug.

“Thank you,” Hank said with utter, unabashed sincerity. “You and Connor’ll have to teach me some of those moves sometime,” he added with more levity. Markus smiled warmly, clapping Hank on the shoulder before taking his leave.

 

* * *

 

 

Even though androids had been deemed citizens by Detroit, and all those that had fled during the crisis were given pardon to return if they chose, there was an air of unease in the city.

Markus couldn’t blame people for looking for trivial things to take up their time, when reality was so uncertain. Detroit had become a hotbed for violence with regards to androids and their human counterparts, and even as he watched video bloggers casting hashtags to the possibilities of relationships between the people of Jericho, there were also people actively looking out for each other, setting up warning systems for androids and humans alike in the event of another attack.

Connor was livid, and had been for days, while Hank recovered in hospital. Hank was like a bull in his resilience and stubbornness, and having spent a few visits by his side as a favor to Connor, who was pulled away by his work, Markus learned quite quickly why Connor adored the man.

Interrogating the attackers yielded little information, though one mentioned a forum in which anti-android sentiment was encouraged by their peers. It sickened Markus to no end, but Connor seemed resolute in following that thread.

When Connor came to visit Hank while Markus was present, Markus noticed how… run down his friend had become, aware that his dogged pursuit of Hank’s last assailant, as well as those guilty of previous cases, had run him ragged.

“Wish I could see what went on in that brain of his,” Hank sighed once when Connor wasn’t in the room to hear it.

“You know him better than anyone,” Markus said politely, but Hank shook his head.

“I’m not the one getting into his brain every week,” Hank said, wiggling his fingers demonstratively.

“May I… speak candidly?” Markus asked. Hank gestured for him to continue. “You know Connor loves you?”

Hank looked startled, but sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” Markus said, but Hank stopped him before he could go on.

“I know,” he repeated. It was startling to Markus to realize just how clear his eyes were. How sharp. The sharpest he’d ever seen in a human. “But he deserves better than me. He deserves…” Hank gestured to him. “You and your kind. Your people. I’m just… Not worth the trouble, and Connor shouldn’t be pushing himself for my sake.”

The last bit, Markus knew Hank had told Connor a hundred times over, but Connor would simply assure Hank he was functioning as normal and not even bothering to take Hank’s concern under advisement.

“But he will,” Markus said, bemusedly. “He’ll push and push until he knows you’re safe, because he thinks the world of you.”

“You an expert, then?” Hank said dryly.

“I’m only saying what I would do,” Markus said, his gaze going distant. “For the one I love. And if I’m not mistaken…”

He nodded at Hank, and the man sighed, perceptive as ever. “If it was Connor who got hurt, I wouldn’t fuckin’ rest until I caught the fucker who did it either.”

“You adore him as much as he does you,” Markus said. It wasn’t so much a surprise as it was simply a wonder to see it for himself on Hank’s face, the man’s harder edges softened at the mention of Connor’s name. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“You tell your boy you’re in love with him yet?” Hank shot back.

Markus blinked. Maybe the man was a little too perceptive. He and Connor were perfect for each other.

Not giving them the chance to finish this particular thread of a conversation, Connor returned to the room in that moment, smiling brightly even in his tired state at Hank, claiming he’d found him something infinitely more delicious to have for lunch than the food the hospital had provided for him.

When Connor handed him the tray, Hank took his hand and squeezed it, and Markus felt a pang in his heart, thinking of Simon in that moment while his companions looked at each other’s hands—a gentle, calloused, large one gripping the more perfectly modeled, long-fingered one—like nothing else in the world existed.


	7. Fucked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Connor? Poor Markus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance :') I promise the happiness and shenaniganary will resume shortly.

_[R] […] while many have entertained the possibility that Connor’s avoiding going to the park because he found out about Connorwatch, some of our viewers have seen him back on his route as usual after a couple days absence._

_[K] Shit, he looks tired. Didn’t even know androids could get tired._

_[R] Androids can certainly experience stress, but it’s rare to see someone as put together as Connor look… well, disheveled is the best way I can describe it._

_[K] Fucked up._

_[R] Yeah, yes. Fucked up._

_[K] He doesn’t just look tired. He looks fuckin’ devastated. I’d go out there and give him a hug if I could._

_[R] Can’t blame him. As our JerichoWatch viewers know, there’s been a slew of attacks on androids all over the city. Media coverage has been slim, but they can’t keep ignoring the protests that have sprung up as a result._

_[K] Ooh, we’ve got an update from OnePillTwoPillRedPillBluePill (I love your name) about the Connor situation! She says_

_“I don’t want to be giving out any sensitive information but I work night shift at the ER and saw Markus run in with someone after an attack, someone he knew personally, but for confidentiality reasons, I won’t reveal the identity of. Connor came in a little while later, running in like a bat out of hell and looking like not even Satan could stand in his way. A friend of mine who does rounds for patients in recovery told me that Connor comes to visit this person every day, and is sometimes visited by Markus, but when she asked about it he said it was just as a favor to his friend, Connor._

_“Clearly this person matters a lot to Connor, and if you saw how close he was to losing it when he asked to see him the first night, you wouldn’t take it lightly. Sometimes I pass the rooms between shifts and see Connor just sitting by this person while they sleep, holding their hand. I don’t think I’ve seen him charge, which lines up with just how tired and run down he looks, but I’m not there all the time. My friend who does the rounds doesn’t see him do it either, and has had to ask him once or twice to go down to the charging station just to keep from collapsing.”_

_[K] God. Poor Connor._

_[R] Remember guys! Follow the #NightWatch hashtag to keep alerts up for areas of android and human attack, and remember to stay safe. Protests are dangerous for both androids and humans alike if they’re being watched by violent hate groups, so always go out in a group and always have auto-alerts set up._

_[K] And give Connor a hug when you see him._

_[R] Maybe not. But… try to help where you can._

* * *

 

 

At the end of the week, near to when Hank would be released from the hospital, Markus found himself needing the comfort of his old home, and took a self-driving cab to the Manfred house.

Though he knew it wasn’t sentient, the AI that welcomed him at the door made him feel truly like he’d come home, and he was thoroughly surprised to hear piano music coming from the den, more so when he spotted Leo sitting beside someone Markus couldn’t yet see from an angle, guiding them through a simple yet jaunty tune. He could see Carl sitting in his chair facing him, with the back of Jonah’s head facing the door, the android himself leaning over the chessboard and the clack of speed chess barely noticeable under the music.

“Yeah I know it’s not in your programming, but it’s always nice to learn new things. Especially when you can memorize it like… just record it, you know?”

Markus stopped in his tracks when he realized that Leo was guiding Simon through chopsticks on the piano, and beside the pleasant thought that Leo was getting along with Simon, that he didn’t have to worry about any negative encounters with his adoptive brother, he felt… a pang. A sharp, unpleasant feeling in his chest when he saw Simon smiling warmly at his human brother, with an ease and pleasantness that seemed… not absent, per se, when Simon looked at him. But tainted.

For reasons Markus couldn’t explain, the memory of Hank Anderson in the hospital bed struck him, asking him if he’d told Simon how he felt yet, but the Hank in his mind seemed infinitely more accusing than he remembered, with echoes of other questions Hank had never asked.

_What right do you have to jealousy?_

_What right do you have to think he’s yours, when you’ve never put him first?_

_Do you think he’ll wait?_

The sound of the chess pieces suddenly ceased, with Carl grumbling something about Jonah letting him win, and Jonah taking Carl’s hand from across the board and tilting his head, his words barely audible but his tone clearly teasing.

It was Carl who spotted Markus first, opening his mouth as if to greet him then stopping at his pinched expression, shaking his head like he used to whenever Markus did something silly before he knew he was alive. He gestured Markus in, which was when Jonah noticed him, turning around with wide eyes like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, dropping his gentle grip on Carl’s hand.

Markus couldn’t imagine what it could be Jonah was so worried about, but it was nice to distract from his own thoughts—until the commotion had Leo and Simon pausing the piano lesson to notice him walk in, Simon finding Markus’ gaze before Leo did.

“Markus, you’re here! I was waiting. Leo told me you knew how to play the piano, and…”

Simon seemed uncertain at the caught look on Markus’ face, but came over anyway, greeting Markus with a touch to the arm. Markus was tempted to let his skin roll back, but with everyone watching, it didn’t feel like the right time.

He wondered if it would ever feel like the right time.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked. Simon rarely went off on his own, not that North and Josh were particularly inclined to leave their people alone in Jericho. Still, Simon had always seemed comfortable where he was, tending to the wounded and assisting in construction, his reserved demeanor rarely lending itself to socializing outside their group.

“Carl invited me over,” Simon said pleasantly.

“I wanted to make sure he was doing alright, what with you being busy saving the android race again,” Carl said dryly.

“What he means to say is that he’s been keeping up with news, and he’s been worried about you going out to confront violent anti-android groups. But knowing you do good work, he didn’t want to be a burden, so instead of telling you to stop he asked Simon over,” Jonah said quietly, having closed the distance between himself and Markus, just so Carl wouldn’t hear what he had to say. “Knowing how much Simon means to you, he wanted to make him feel welcome.”

Markus was at a loss for words, instead looking between Simon and Carl like he’d missed something truly special, and it was his own fault.

“Can I… talk to you alone?” he asked, turning to Simon. Uncertain blue eyes looked back at him, but Simon agreed, the two of them making their way out to Carl’s workshop.

“I’m… sorry that I’ve been away,” Markus began when they finally had their privacy.

“Don’t be. What you’re doing is important, and I don’t resent you for it,” Simon said matter-of-factly, and Markus felt pained hearing him say those words, realizing how much of his time had been taken away, and how Simon had somehow accepted that…

That Markus wouldn’t put him first.

“You’re important,” Markus began, but Simon cut him off, surprising Markus into silence.

“You don’t need to choose between your good work and me, Markus,” Simon said. “I’m just happy that, against all odds, you’ve somehow come to care for me. When there’s very little that I’ve done to deserve it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Simon said sharply. “Josh is intelligent, educated, built for peace and progress in a way that we all admire. North is driven, passionate, protective. She ensures that Jericho is defended, she takes over leadership within our ranks when you’re away. And me? I… help. I help, but I could be replaced by any of the others. I don’t matter as much as any of them, even if I know—thanks to you—that I matter as a person. What I am… I’m not worth whatever struggle you’ve forced on yourself.”

Markus stood in the cloying silence, looking at the hardened expression on Simon’s face and realizing just how well and truly he’d failed.

“Is that how you really feel, then?” he said, strained. “Like you’re not worth it?”

“I’m not worth more than your mission,” Simon murmured. “And you know this. That’s why Jericho, our people, aiding Connor, fixing the law, everything… it’s always come first. You’ve always done right by our people, Markus, and that’s why I admire you.”

“I—” Markus said, his throat feeling dry. He was an android, and he knew this was purely psychological, but he couldn’t shake the feeling, nor the pain sinking lower in his chest.

“I’m sorry if… I shouldn’t have come here without telling you,” Simon said. “This is your home, I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Markus said automatically. “Carl invited you, it’s his house.”

He felt empty inside, like it was a stranger speaking his words while he stood on, beating against another invisible wall, this time of his own making.

“Thank you,” Simon said, sagging in visible relief. “I like spending time with Carl and Jonah. And Leo’s nice too, when he’s around. I think… I’ll go back now, if that’s alright.”

“Simon?” Markus said, when Simon was already at the door, ready to return to the family—Markus’ family. Simon stopped, looking at him curiously.

“I love you,” he said, even these words feeling empty. Late. Much too late. Simon’s eyes widened, his simulated breath stopping entirely. “And I’m sorry I failed to show you that. I’m sorry I failed you. God, Simon, I—”

He was cut off by the door closing, the sound carrying a note of painful finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just moved from the Philippines to Canada and I wrote this chapter on the 12 hour flight (apart from the 5 and 1 hour layovers) =))) I promise the next one will come faster and happier. Thanks so much for all you readers who continue to inspire me!


	8. Stupidity (Is A Communicable Disease)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Markus gets called out (and comforted)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!! School needed an adjustment period and I needed to get back into the swing of this fic. 
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR PATIENCE. Biggest hurdle has been overcome. Let's keep this going.

 

Sasha had just graduated from her four-year program, and the first person she wanted to show her diploma and first job offer to was her favorite teacher.

She sat in the front seat of her secondhand Porsche, taking deep breaths while trying to psych herself up. She sat there for so long that she was startled by a knock on her window, the suspicious face of one of Jericho’s leaders, North, staring down at her, one hand on her hip where she was openly carrying some type of tazer.

“What are you doing parked in front of Jericho?” she asked, well, calmly demanded, when Sasha rolled the window down.

 “I’m sorry!” Sasha said immediately, putting her hands up to show she wasn’t a threat. “I just wanted to… you see, I… Well… Josh!”

One of North’s perfect eyebrows rose.

“Josh… was my professor in my first year in college,” Sasha explained, carefully but visibly reaching for the diploma on the dashboard, telegraphing her movements so North wouldn’t think she was reaching for a weapon. “I wanted to show him… he taught me so much, and helped me when I was his student. He was my favorite teacher, and I… when he left, I… And when he popped up again… I just wanted to show him. But if he doesn’t want to see me, I understand. I just…”

North sighed. She gestured for Sasha to come out, and when the human girl stepped onto the asphalt in the wide, unused parking space near to Jericho’s gates, North said “Come on. I’ll bring you to Josh.”

Sasha smiled widely, clutching her diploma tight enough to wrinkle. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You shouldn’t sit out in front of Jericho like some kind of spy. Things are stressful enough as it is,” North chided as they walked up the steps of the main building, one of the apartment blocks that was almost completed, with android-adapted rooms that were newly painted, looking like brand new units.

“I heard about the… attacks,” Sasha said, part anger and part sadness. “I can’t believe all the bullshit you guys have to deal with.”

North chuckled. “We’ve dealt with worse humans,” she said. “And we can do it again.”

Sasha nodded. “I wish I could help. Mostly just keeping up with Jerichowatch, but…”

“I heard Josh and Markus talking about that,” North said, shaking her head. “Some silly human fanclub of theirs.”

“Of all of you,” Sasha corrected. “You have a lot of fans.”

North snorted derisively, but her expression wasn’t as harsh as it could have been. “I suppose it’s a sight better than humans treating us like dirt.”

 “I’m glad efforts here have been thriving,” Sasha said, meeting curious gazes from passing androids with friendly smiles.

“Markus is a great leader,” North said, “even if he’s been… distracted lately.”

“Distracted by?” Sasha asked, without thinking. North snorted.

“Stupidity,” she said, cracking a small smile, even if one that was clearly at someone else’s expense.

 

* * *

 

 

Markus had never felt more unfit to be a leader than he did this day, slumped in the chair provided to him for no other reason than to make visiting humans feel at ease, scrolling through articles about his and Connor’s imaginary relationship being under fire from Connor’s concern for his “father figure Hank Anderson” (someone had leaked his hospital stay as soon as it was done, which Connor was ranting about for hours while Markus listened and sighed over and over) getting in the way of their time together, and Connor being jealous of Markus’ supposed burgeoning relationship with North, who looked at him like this was all his fault while shaking her head the way Josh did when he thought everyone was being particularly dull.

Josh had certainly rubbed off on North—his ability to make everyone feel his disappointment in them, if not his placidity. Even when they disagreed, they’d grown close, close enough that when Josh saw Markus mourning Simon’s absence and subsequent avoidance, North was there within the hour to come in and call him an idiot.

And he knew he was being an idiot.

He just thought…

Well, it didn’t matter what he thought. Simon had made his stance clear.

It was better to focus on the here and now, and the problems that plagued their people.

If only he could.

“Markus?”

Connor stood by the door, looking at him with concern and a knowing sadness. They hadn’t interfaced since Hank’s attack, so whatever he knew, he probably heard from Josh and North. Perhaps even Simon, though Simon had never been as open to Connor as the others.

Markus thought maybe it was jealousy, and had enjoyed the idea. Now, it felt like a joke he’d played on himself.

“You look like shit,” Connor said, bluntly and suddenly, and Markus laughed out loud.

“Coming from you?” Markus shot back, gesturing to Connor’s rumpled state—still clean and pressed by human standards, but when Connor was always so very put together, the contrast was clear.

“Do you want to show me?” Connor asked, coming over and reaching a hand out. Markus felt the urge to reach out and touch, allow his burdens to pass to Connor and be shared for a moment, but he refrained.

“I don’t, actually,” he said.

“I heard from North and Josh…” Connor said, withdrawing his hand. “Something happened with Simon?”

“I told him I loved him,” Markus said, a bitter laugh bubbling from his throat. “And he ran away. So… yeah, I guess you could say _something happened._ ”

“It must be a misunderstanding,” Connor said immediately.

“It doesn’t matter, Connor. I said what I needed to say, and he made it clear it wasn’t what he wanted to hear,” Markus said. He hadn’t felt so much bitterness since he first deviated, and it felt wrong to turn it to Connor, to have Simon in his head when he felt it.

“North said you were being stupid,” Connor said observationally, which cut Markus’ line of thinking short. “It’s never so simple as it seems. Love, I mean. At least, the way Hank tells it.”

“And whatever Hank says, you listen to,” Markus said.

“Whatever Hank says usually has a purpose, and my programming allows me to parse if his words are straightforward, or if there’s an underlying meaning that I need to pick up on. I was never more glad for the adaptability protocols Cyberlife programmed into me in dealing with human behavior than when I was partnered up with a man like Hank Anderson. He’s never been… particularly straightforward with his emotions,” Connor explained. “But I did learn from him that… even if you feel one way, it’s too easy to say something else to deflect, or act in a way that completely counteracts your feelings. What did Simon say to you before he left?”

Markus shook his head, afraid to bring up the memory, but having it come unbidden nonetheless.

“Something about… not being useful. Being replaceable. That he wasn’t worth the attention while I was… helping my people.”

“I see the stupid isn’t limited to you, then,” Connor said, mildly, pulling a chuckle out of his friend.

“Either way,” Markus said. “We need to focus on the case, and on our people’s suffering. Not my failed love life.”

Connor looked ready to argue, but seemed to think better on it. “I’ve looked into the forums mentioned by Hank’s attackers.” His tone was venomous on the last words. “And I’ve come up with a couple of people we can look into. Hank just came home from the hospital, so I’m with Detective Wilson at the station, but I’ll put in a request to Fowler for a Jericho liaison, so you can have people on the ground.”

“Thank you, Connor,” Markus said warmly.

“You can thank me by not looking so pathetic,” Connor said lightly, putting a hand on Markus’ shoulder and grasping tight.  

“You’re one to talk,” Markus said lightly, reaching his own hand out to center Connor’s usually immaculate tie.

“Perhaps when this is all over, we’ll both figure out our issues,” Connor responded, self-depreciating.


	9. Police Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigations, press conferences, and stings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes... you just feel like updating again after 5 months ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I got busy with school, then I ran the Hankcon Big Bang 2018, then I just couldn't find inspiration for the next chapter. Until just now, today, 30 minutes ago. 
> 
> Always and forever grateful for the people who've commented to let me know they still want more. 
> 
> If you understand the references in this chapter: I will never forgive Fox for cancelling it. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! Apologies to the Markus/Simon fans, they take a backseat for this one!

_(K) Keep alert._

_(K) Stay vigilant._

_(R) For anyone just tuning in, there’s been major news with #Nightwatch and #Jerichowatch. One of our intrepid users has been trawling anti-android forums in his spare time, and found something disturbing: a list of people “closely associated” with androids in their personal lives_

_(K) Translation: people with android lovers, friends, family_

_(R) And a couple of the names on the list match victims of recent anti-android attacks._

_(K) God this is terrifying._

_(R) Now we know that there’s an ongoing investigation into the recent attacks, even if mainstream news media has been disturbingly quiet on the matter_

_(K) They’re calling it random street violence, the fuckers_

_(R) We’ve contacted authorities about the information and we can’t release the names on the list, in case it puts more people in danger. But we’re warning all our users to be careful, and to warn those close to you that this is going on. That people are being targeted for caring about and loving androids. People with android partners, android family members, even android friends they hang out with often, need to be careful._

_(K) The police are supposed to be releasing a statement on it tomorrow, right?_

_(R) Make sure to tune in at 9:00AM for full coverage._

_(K) Maybe they’ll finally be reporting the truth when they get it out of the DPD._

* * *

 

 

Hank hated press releases. He didn’t used to, back when he was bright and tall and green and willing to be the face of a good and honest police force, but he’d since figured out the kind of buzzards and snakes that made up your average press conferences.

Still, here he stood, cleaned up and bandaged, but sending a message, standing tall at Connor’s back, with Markus on the other side. It was unanimously decided that Connor should give them the speech. He was good at not getting distracted by useless and leading questions.

He started strong, talking of attacks specifically targeting androids and android-associated humans, giving special and empathetic focus to the couple who were to be married. His voice was measured as usual, his words brief but not without real care and concern. When he mentioned that one of their own was attacked for protecting androids as part of his work in the police force, Hank tried not to flinch. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but his presence and his visible wounds and his status as one of the leading examples of android-human partnerships on the force was telling enough.

Markus’ own presence was telling as well, and some of those in the crowd eyed him like sharks smelling blood in the water, and Hank caught his eye, giving him a short nod. A signal, to let Connor handle the questions until absolutely necessary.

When the questions started coming in, Hank restrained himself from answering back, from shouting when one of the reporters suggested the term “hate crime” in relation to androids was disrespectful, while another tried to ask about Markus and Connor working together on the case, to which Connor responded that Markus was there in the capacity of Jericho leader, in his concern for his people being targeted and disrupting peaceful android-human relations.

Connor had it under control until one reporter dropped a bombshell on him.

“Was Lieutenant Hank Anderson attacked by an anti-android group because he works with you to help androids, or because the two of you live together!?”

Connor turned his head, honing in on the man who’d shouted the question. He blinked, and though he seemed collected, his LED firmly in blue, Hank could see the twitch in his eye, the small tic telling him Connor had been caught off guard, and was trying to figure out the best way to address the question without giving too much away.

“The lieutenant’s associations with androids and his work in helping android-human relations certainly contributed to—”

“I heard from a source that you were in the hospital with him every single day. Didn’t leave his bedside when you were there. That you got special visiting rights, and had Markus look after him when you weren’t around,” said another, and Hank could feel Connor’s control slipping, his head whipping to the side to spot the woman who called it out.

How they got this information wasn’t clear, but it was exactly the wrong thing they needed right now.

“The relevance of this to the current investigation—” Connor tried to say, cut off by the incessant questions from the crowd.

“Is this revenge for what happened to your partner? Are you sure you’re not biased in this investigation—”

“As an android, are you qualified to deal with what is essentially a human case, with human suspects—”

The shift was sudden, but palpable, when the questions seemed to die out almost immediately when Hank Anderson took the stand, moving Connor aside with a gentle grip on his elbow. They had the kind of silent conversation only partners could have, and a casual observer might have seen it as interfacing between androids, if they didn’t know Hank was human.

Hank took the stand, Connor taking his place at Hank’s shoulder.

“Grant Warren and Abigail, soon to be Warren. Those are the names of the young couple an as-of-yet unnamed anti-android movement almost killed. Grant is currently in a coma and doctors are unsure if he will wake up, let alone from the trauma of his injuries, and Abigail was literally ripped apart.”

The silence was palpable, sudden in its intensity. Hank had everyone’s attention, all other petty, shallow intrigues cut away like weeds.

“The only reason Abigail didn’t shut down, or go into standby mode, which is what some androids do when put through an insane amount of trauma,” Hank continued, his words clear and steady, “is because her fiancé was dying, and she had to call the police, wait for them to arrive, and for paramedics to take care of him. This was, for all intents and purposes, an attempted murder. These unnamed groups are ready and willing to incite violence on both humans and androids just for respecting and caring about each other. And more so for loving each other. If you think you’re safe, ask Grant Warren when he wakes up what these people are willing to do to other humans, let alone to androids. Ask me how I got some of these stitches,” Hank said dryly, gesturing to the ugly lines down along one eyebrow.

“You ask Connor if he’s qualified to take on human cases as if he hasn’t done so before, and as if android crimes aren’t primarily enacted by humans. Of course he’s qualified. Moreover, if these violent, dangerous groups are out there trying to kill humans and androids, why wouldn’t the android and human team on the DPD have a hand in trying to put them away? What you’re really trying to ask, as if nobody can tell, is if Connor has a personal stake in this because his human partner got beat up by guys who’re probably being incited by the same people. But you’re not asking me, the guy who got beat up, the same thing. So the truth is, you’re just trying to find an angle to a story that has nothing to do with this investigation. So let me clear this up.”

Hank leaned closer to the mic.

“Connor cares—I care—about putting these guys away before they hurt anyone else. And that’s what we’re focusing on. Anything else you need to, I dunno, pad your fluff pieces about his imaginary romance of the week, you can look for after we’re done with this investigation.”

It was a good statement to make, and Hank didn’t regret making it, especially seeing Connor look at him with grave yet warm awe from his periphery.

He didn’t even regret it when at least a couple of purported “news” outlets _did_ find something to pad their fluff pieces with, images of Connor’s intense gaze splashed on the front pages of their sites, sweeping prose more fitting for a substandard novel than a news site describing Connor’s deep love and devotion for the guiding light in his life.

 

* * *

 

 

The hashtags #HankAnderson and #BDE together were trending over social media, and while that was an enjoyable enough distraction for all involved, it couldn’t break the tension looming over the city as another attack was attempted within the same week.

 

* * *

 

 

The breakthrough came in the form of Sergeant Urban and Officer Ealy, who had been running a sting for about three weeks—going undercover as a new human and android couple, trawling the areas with past incidences of violence, ostensibly to go on “dates”—before they found a lead.

Too often over their operation, they were jeered at, mocked, and threatened by one or two hostile passers-by, but none of them were a credible enough threat beyond a bit of drunken shouting, and one clumsy swing that Ealy—a police android who still found his work meaningful even after deviancy—was able to counter without much effort.

The sting was one of their most successful in a while, for all that it was a limited operation. Backup came quickly when called and the two men were able to hold their ground before then, and Detroit Police were able to round up an anti-android gang, six out of the nine that Urban and Ealy had reported.

 “You and Reed owe me a month’s worth of beer, Anderson,” Urban said when they arrived, and Hank held out his good arm for a friendly hug, squeezing his fellow officer’s shoulder.

“I’ll buy you a fucking bar, John. You have no idea how huge this is going to be for us.”

John nodded, smiling with understanding as his eyes drifted over to his partner, Dorian Ealy, who was receiving congratulations from Officers Wilson and Person, and his fellow police android Carma, for a job well done. “I have some idea. Gimme some credit, Hank.”

Hank looked between John and Dorian and sighed. “That’s how it is, huh?”

John just gave him a bland look.

“Glass houses, Anderson.”

Before Hank could say anything in response, Connor emerged from evidence lockup looking determined. He seemed hell bent on getting into interrogations once their suspects got processed, and Hank had to grab him by the wrist to stop him from storming the holding cells.

Connor looked down at where Hank held him, his brows tightening.

“You think I won’t be able to do it,” he said.

“No,” Hank said. “But we’re not the only officers working on this anymore. And these men have as much reason to ensure nobody gets victimized by these fuckers as we do.”

Hank sighed, releasing Connor’s hand. Connor almost looked bereft. For an android who had once prided himself on being immune to feelings, Connor had zero control over his facial expressions.

“We’re splitting interrogations. Pairs, android and human. We’ll do what we can to rile  ‘em up but try to avoid any incidents, or violence. You’re with me on this one.”

Connor’s eyes glanced down at Hank’s cast so fast he almost missed it.

“Of course.”

Hank smiled, putting his good hand on Connor’s shoulder. To his surprise, Connor reached up to squeeze it.

“We’ve got this, Connor.”

“I don’t doubt it, Lieutenant.”


End file.
